


Making an Effort

by Heronfem



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Developing Friendships, Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M, Male Friendship, post-Revelations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 02:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12098955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heronfem/pseuds/Heronfem
Summary: In which Blackwall and Dorian somewhat reluctantly bond and even more reluctantly become friends, the Storm Coast makes an appearance, and Sera does not have near enough lines.





	Making an Effort

**Author's Note:**

> From this prompt on the kinkmeme from clear the fuck back in 2015: https://dragonage-kink.dreamwidth.org/88412.html?thread=356243548#cmt356243548
> 
> I am very weak for Cadash and Blackwall, it must be said. 
> 
> Slight trigger warning for discussions of homophobia (including apologies for past behavior) and also standard butchery of an animal for food. If you want to skip that it's between the breakers marked o.O.o

The thing was, Blackwall had known so many people just like Dorian. Noble, well educated, charming enough, with a high opinion of himself and a slew of blinding outfits; he'd seen it before, and he'd see it again. Usually, those people had been useful just as long as their purses were available. After that there was no point to them. Nobility were rarely worth the trouble, in all honesty. Dorian particularly rubbed him the wrong way, with his fine clothes and fussily maintained hair and mustache and endless complaining about the existence of nature. As far as Blackwall could tell, he was little more than a pampered, spoiled brat. 

“What's vexing you, love?” Aida asked, and he jolted from rather grouchy thoughts as she wrapped an arm around his waist. She was tall for a dwarf, and leaned comfortably against him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bending to kiss the top of her head. 

“Nothing, really. Just old, dull thoughts. You're back early.”

“Mmm.” She grimaced, looking up at him. “I've got bad news. We have to head back to the Storm Coast tomorrow, misery of miseries. Apparently we missed some of the dragonlings and they've migrated to harassing one of the camps. Congratulations on your first trip out after your revelation.”

Blackwall groaned, already thinking of his damp gambeson and hauling himself up and down hills. “Damn.”

“I know.” Aida stood on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek. “Our away gear is already repaired and packed for us, so at least there's no early rising.”

“At least there's that. Who else is getting dragged along on this?”

Aida tugged his hand and he obediently followed her back to bed, settling in and letting her pillow her head on his chest. She was obstinate at times, refusing to answer until Blackwall caved to whatever tiny demand she had made, all the while grinning up at him. If he got upset in the slightest, she'd cave immediately, but they liked playing the joking game now and then. 

“Sera for our archer,” Aida said, lazily tracing patterns over his chest. “And I haven't dragged Dorian out of the library in a month, so it's his turn too.”

Blackwall bit back his groan and turned it into a resigned sigh. “Lovely.”

“I know you don't get on well,” Aida said, propping herself up so she could look down at him, “but please... for my sake, if nothing else, please try not to antagonize each other?” She brushed her red hair back behind her ear, looking tired. “I hate listening to my best friend and my boyfriend bicker at each other.”

Blackwall grimaced, but sighed. “Fine. I'll try.”

“Even if you have to give each other the silent treatment, that would be fine,” she said dryly. “You two are worse than Solas and Vivienne, honestly.”

“Ouch.”

She bent down, kissing the tip of his nose. “The truth hurts, my love.”

“And you do not pull punches.”

oOo

Dawn broke, and went, and at a shockingly reasonable hour Aida and Blackwall left their tower to join the party at the bottom of the keep. Sera was already saddled on her nuggalope, fast asleep, while the nuggalope absently looked around with no real concern in the world. Dorian was in the middle of an argument with both Bull and Cullen, arms crossed over his chest as the three of them talked together. Cullen looked like he was nursing a migraine, which Blackwall could understand. Bull looked more amused than anything, clearly biting back a smile at whatever Dorian was griping about. Blackwall mounted his horse, a black gelding imaginatively named Shadow, and Aida rode up on her sleek red and white pony, who'd been given the horribly scary name of “Mister Boo-face” due to some markings that looked remarkably like a ghost on his side.

“Dorian!” She called.

He held up a hand placatingly, and seemed to be pleading with Bull. Cullen now looked very amused, and Bull just laughed, clapping him on the back. Dorian wilted, and Cullen grinned before gently spinning him around and pushing him towards the mounts. Princess, Dorian's bad tempered drakolisk, was being kept behind on this mission apparently. Instead, the Bog Unicorn waited patiently for his rider. Dorian swung into the saddle looking faintly murderous, and made a rude gesture at Cullen and Bull, who both laughed. 

“What was that about?” Aida asked as Sera snored. Frou-frou, the nuggalope, obediently fell into line with the horses and followed along without prompting. 

“Some people have no sense of charity in their soul,” Dorian sniffed, but he was obviously hiding a smile. “An inside joke, I assure you.”

Aida just laughed, and they got underway. Blackwall glanced at Dorian, frowning a little. Dorian was in new armor, or maybe not new armor. It looked like it had been sewn together with different scraps of the same cloth, and cobbled together out of all sorts of leftover pieces. There was a matching glove in his belt for his left hand, one that looked a lot like what the chevalier's wore under their gauntlets, that had been tipped with metal bits to look like claws. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the journey. At least the dark green was suited to the location this time.

They made excellent time, and after a very unremarkable and quiet day of travel, reached the first of the Storm Coast camps. The pass taken to get there always somehow seemed much faster than anywhere else. Odd.

They let the horses into the little round corral made for them, and almost immediately everyone went to the tents. 

“Sweet, merciful ground,” Dorian groaned. They'd all be sharing a longtent this time, rather than the tiny, individual ones. He dropped onto one of the stiff cots made in the North Ferelden style, his staff going askew in the process. “Blessed, wonderful cots, with wonderful, wonderful legs to keep them away from the damp.”

Sera, who'd slept a good half of the way there on Frou-frou, just shrugged. “It's a cot, innit?”

“But cots mean no rocks,” Dorian said, directly into the fabric of the cot. “I'm so happy.”

Sera snorted, dropping her pack on her own cot. They always had four available, one big enough to fit a certain Qunari, and three other small ones. Dorian and Sera took two of the regulars, while Blackwall put up the Qunari sized one. It would be more than enough for one human man and a female dwarf. It didn't take long, and by the time he was finished Dorian and Sera both had their bedrolls down. Dorian's was newly repaired with cheery pink fabric, which he eyed with distaste before muttering “Bull,” under his breath. 

“What about The Iron Bull?” Blackwall asked, a little amused.

“I asked him to take a look at it, and he said he'd hand it off to Krem. Who, of course, could be easily bribed into patching it with pink. He's an excellent friend, but a terrible prankster. _Honestly_ ,” Dorian said, but he was smiling. “I'll have to get him back for this somehow. Maybe I could have Dagna switch all his pants with coordinating ones, or something like that.”

He dropped his pack on the cot, made sure his staff was on the bed, and left the tent. Blackwall finished getting the bedrolls down and ducked out as well to find Aida talking with the requisitions officer while Dorian and Sera sat together and griped about the weather. Blackwall sighed internally and resigned himself to yet another rendition of “Everything In The World Is Awful because This Is Not A City, in four parts”. Usually Varric would complain with them, but as he oh-so-tragically wasn't there, they would have to perform it with only two people. Blackwall dropped onto one of the camp chairs near them and let himself doze a little by the fire. 

Once dinner was had, Aida and Sera both went back to the tent, leaving Dorian and Blackwall alone. Blackwall was comfortably settled in his chair, trying to get some heat into his bones when he realized something. He was dry. No rain was on him. He looked up, confused, and found a huge domed barrier over them all. Dorian was hunched by the fire as well, his shoulders slumped as he warmed his hands.

“Are you doing that?”

Dorian jolted. “Vishante kaffas, I thought you'd fallen asleep. What?”

“The barrier.”

“Oh.” Dorian looked slightly wary. “Yes, I am.”

“Ah.” Blackwall wasn't quite certain what to say. _It's a fucking massive barrier, how are you doing that?_

Now Dorian looked downright nervous. “Is... is it bothering you? I can take it down-”

Blackwall shook his head. “It's fine, just wanted to know where it came from.”

Dorian gave a jerky nod. “Right. Yes. Me. Ah.” 

An uncomfortable silence fell again, and Blackwall winced. Dorian was focusing on the fire again, as if all the secrets to life could be found there.

 _Try to get along_ , Aida had said. _Get to know him a bit_.

“Seems like you and Bull are getting along like a house on fire,” he said, uncertain what else to lead with. “You looked chummy back at Skyhold.”

Dorian immediately stiffened, and said quietly, “We're just friends, is all. He's an insufferable mother hen and won't stop dragging me over to be friends with the Chargers. He does the same thing with Cullen, too. I mean, the Commander.” Dorian flicked his eyes to him, as if checking to see if the slip of the tongue to a familiar name was going to get him reprimanded. Blackwall felt like somehow they were having two different conversations.

“That's good,” he managed. “It's good to have friends.”

“Ye-essss,” Dorian said slowly, watching him. “It is. Do you have a problem with Bull and I getting along? Or the Commander and I?”

“No?” Blackwall felt quite confused now. “Just... making conversation.”

Dorian eyed him. “Forgive me, but the only times I've ever made overtures at speaking with you, you've proceeded to do nothing but tell me how much of a spoiled child you thing I am, insult me endlessly, and then tell me that I should essentially go self-flagellate into humility over my perceived slights. So you'll have to forgive my uncertainty as to what the reason for this conversation is.”

Blackwall felt a bit like he'd been slapped. “I just...You make Aida happy,” he said. “And she wants us to get along. And I have been an ass, I can readily admit that, but I want to at least try.”

Dorian visibly relaxed. “Oh. Next time, just lead with that. Very well.” He stood up, dusting himself off. “All the same, I would like to sleep, and I'm going to let the barrier down.”

Blackwall got up, and just managed to bolt to the tent in time before Dorian gleefully removed the barrier and the rain came back down. He held the door open for Dorian, who had his own little barrier umbrella, and rolled his eyes as Dorian snickered.

oOo

The dragonlings themselves didn't take long to handle, but then they got caught up in other things and found themselves on the Coast for another night. They moved to the next camp down, and on the walk there Blackwall steeled himself.

“So, Dorian.”

Dorian glanced over at him. “Yes?”

“Know any good jokes?”

Dorian stopped in his tracks, his stare utterly disapproving. “That's what you lead with? Good jokes?”

“We don't have much in the way of topics for conversation!”

“Incredible.”

oOo

They were safely in camp when Dorian dropped down into the chair next to his by the fire.

“I have a question for you.”

“Alright.”

“You know how things are made, and I know how some things are made, but not many things with wood. Can you tell me how a table is made?”

Blackwall stared at him. Dorian stared back, defiant.

“A table,” he said at last. 

“Yes,” Dorian said. “I want to know how tables are made, or your toys that you make for the refugee children. How you design them, and such. I can do trigonometry, virology, statistics, and magic and such til the end of time, but actually making something with my own hands? I am utterly lost. I can mend seams and cobble pieces of fabric together with thread in a somewhat straight line and that's the sum of my skills on that end. So, tell me about tables.”

“Alright,” Blackwall said, feeling a like poleaxed. “Tables. First you have to select wood, of course...”

oOo

“-And that's how Thorold won Mae over,” Dorian finished telling him, arm propping up his head from the cot. It was fairly late but they'd gotten talking again, and Blackwall had wanted to hear the end. If nothing else, Dorian told stories wonderfully.

“Magnificent,” he sighed, able to picture it now. “What a sight that must have been.”

“I'll never forget it,” Dorian said, unusually serious. “That was the moment I started believing in true love. Seeing them... I realized it could happen to anyone. And I'm so glad it was them.”

He dropped onto his back, sighing dramatically. 

“Don't worry,” Blackwall said, a little quieter than needed. “You'll find yours too.”

If they both suddenly developed dust in their eyes, it wasn't as if anyone needed mention it.

o.O.o

“You know, when you first got here I seem to recall Sera playing pranks on you,” Blackwall said as they worked on skinning a rather bulky ram that Sera had brought down. Dorian was up to his elbows in blood and didn't seem to mind. “You weren't exactly thrilled.”

“Of course I wasn't.”

“But she does it now and all's well.”

“I fail to see the point you're trying to make.” Dorian carefully set the skin aside for the tanners. It would make for good eating and some warmth on the Coast's cruel shores.

“What changed?” He asked, cleaning his blade. 

Dorian didn't answer, just cleaned his own blade and shook his head. They worked in silence for a while before he said at last, “I became part of the Inquisition proper, and then there wasn't so much hostility. I didn't think they were pranks, I thought they were attacks. A few months ago, if Bull had patched up my things like that, I would have been worried. Such a minor thing, the color. But there are enough people who call me a woman because I sleep with men, and enough people who make cruel jokes where they think I can't hear. They're not worth repeating, but they're...horrifying. In their own way. You must understand, no one jokes in Tevinter about people like me. They're jokes only in that we're a thing to be laughed at while we're killed off for sport. Sera making jokes turned my stomach for a while.”

Blackwall had stopped working, looking at him. “I believe I did that once,” he said quietly, remembering. “Implied you weren't a man, I mean.”

“Yes,” Dorian said, his voice tight, “you did.”

“I apologize. It was unworthy, regardless of what I know know. I should have said something sooner.”

Dorian looked up over the ram, his eyes tired. “Thank you. And for what it's worth... I've known a great many bad men, Blackwall. I am all too intimately acquainted with evil. You're not it.”

Blackwall let his hand fall, staring at him. “I'm not sure how to respond to that.”

There was a flash of a grin. “Of course not. Let's not go _crazy_ with our expectations, here.”

Blackwall chuckled, going back to his work, then paused. “Dorian?”

“Yes?”

“If I ever say something like that again, you have my full permission to zap me where I stand. And if someone else says something, I'll happily go defend your honor.”

“I may swoon.”

o.O.o

A week of bonding later, they were back within Skyhold's walls and Blackwall couldn't have been readier to sleep beside Aida in a real bed again. Sera launched herself off Frou-frou to hug Dagna, who kissed her back. Dorian dismounted the Bog Unicorn, letting Cullen take the reins, and fished out his purse to put three coins in Bull's outstretched hand while Cullen cackled. Josephine was talking with Aida, so Blackwall inched closer to listen in.

“-right, I suppose,” Dorian said, but he was smiling. “And I'm sure you'll never let me live it down.”

“See, it wasn't so bad!” Bull clapped a hand on his shoulder, which Dorian surprisingly took without falling. “You all came back in one piece, Aida looks happy, and you made a friend.”

“Three coppers on whether or not I'll have a pleasant week isn't much of a bet, since I was upwind of you,” Dorian said tartly, squeaking as Bull wrapped an arm around him and held his arms to ruffle his hair. “Bull! Cullen, stop him!”

“As if you weren't going to wash it as soon as you got your things away,” Cullen said, indulgently “lifting” Bull's hand away. “Away with you, go to the baths. We'll take your things up to your room.”

“So kind,” Dorian drawled, dripping sarcasm.

Blackwall couldn't quite hide his chuckle, and the three looked over at him.

“Well?” Dorian demanded. “We've gotten on so well this week, it's time to get on with it.”

“What?” Blackwall was legitimately confused.

“You asked me once if we could ever be friends,” Dorian said, and Blackwall groaned, unable to help his smile. “I am headed to the baths, where, I might note, there is lots and lots of soap. So?”

“Alright, alright.” He handed the reins off to Dennet, who looked like he was trying to smother a laugh. “Let's cement this friendship of ours with that god-awful Antivan bliss that smells like dead things.”

“Antivan Joy, and absolutely not. It's sandalwood scent or nothing, as you're such a manly man,” Dorian said with an incredible eyeroll, making Blackwall laugh. 

“And leave you to that wonderful rose scent all on your own? I think not.”

Dorian threw back his head and laughed, and together they hiked up the stairs towards the bathhouse. It was a truly beautiful day, with flowers in bloom and the refugee kids laughing and running around on the lawn. The sun sparkled on the endless clear puddles that formed in the dips on the rock, making the whole place seem like it was sparkling. Blackwall glanced behind as they went, smiling at the beam on Aida's face. 

_All in all, my love, time well spent._

Smiling, he turned back, and promptly walked into a wall.

Later, he would bluster and bluff about it, but seeing Dorian fall over in laughter over his mooning over Aida was one of his favorite memories.


End file.
